a welsh triad - or: when three worlds collide
by daffidil
Summary: Draco Malfoy is busy doing his work as a Healer; Mycroft Holmes desperately needs a break from a demanding job, and Ianto Jones can't stop thinking of certain people. and never the trey shall meet... but wait, this is fiction, and what would happen if they were suddenly stuck in a world together...? crossover between Harry Potter/Torchwood/Sherlock.
1. leap of faith

**author's notes:**

_* one of the strange pleasures of fiction is the possibilities of worlds that would never normally know each other meeting up. so when JohnsArmyLady challenged me to write a three-way cross-over story, i rose to it... _

_* this crossover contains characters from **Harry Potter**, **Torchwood** ánd **Sherlock**... and a bit of men liking other men... if you don't like, don't read..._

_* re. Torchwood - in my world, the third and fourth series have never happened... also Tosh and Owen haven't perished... this way i'm righting a very big wrong, i feel :-)_

* * *

**1. leap of faith**

The day had started out normal enough. It had rained, and Draco Malfoy was busy trying to block it out with some violin music, while reading an old book on Magic Potions, written by his one-time Hogwarts professor, Severus Snape. He needed to, for research purposes, hoped that this would provide him with an angle that would make sense of the stuff he'd been working out for months now – a spell for (or rather: against) flatulence. The Ministry was keen on a result, and Draco was keen to give them one, but so far, not much had made sense. He had even asked an old fellow student, Neville Longbottom, for advice, knowing that he was studying herbs that had similar effects to the potions that he was working out, but Neville had nothing that could help him out in any kind of way.

Draco saw dark clouds still gathered over the beach that he looked out at through the window at the front of the old guesthouse where he had booked a room for a few weeks. He was going to speak to an old Witch with centuries of knowledge and who lived along the Welsh coast, on an unplottable piece of land that even he had some trouble finding. The Witch had been handy, and her knowledge had been very useful, but still Draco had trouble trying to locate a few of the ingredients, which the Witch said could be found along the coast of Wales, but failed to give him clues as to where exactly, as she was called away suddenly for Urgent Business (non-specified, he knew about those kind of Business trips only too well). He was quite happy to be away from Scotland for a while, as his relationship had been in a bit of a pickle, and space was very much needed, he felt. Even if his partner didn't…

He cooked some water in the small cauldron provided in a corner of the room, intent on having a cup of tea, and threw in some herbs that should calm his nerves a little, leave him feeling less frayed, and waited for the smells to be just right. The book with spells was directed back onto the pile next to his desk, and Draco went to lie down on his bed, when he heard a strange rumbling noise.

"Oh great," he thought, "thunder, just what I need…"

He was hoping to go for a walk along the beach after he'd had his tea, and then have a meal in the intriguing looking restaurant a few buildings on from the guesthouse, called The Gaping Fish, avoid the food in the guesthouse for an evening (Mrs Meagle was not the best cook in the world, but insisted on providing her guests with something splendid and hearty, as she'd call it. She was also very hard to say no to. Draco had managed to convince her that he was going to spend an evening with some friends, and she was okay with that… It was just like being back at Hogwarts, he'd thought. Even any of his boyfriends had never been that demanding…).

The rumbling noise faded away again, and Draco closed his eyes for a minute. He missed his home, suddenly. He missed having a meal cooked for him, and a cup of coffee brought to him, and the company of a lovely warm body in his bed when he was reading up for work, that warm, deep voice telling him that he shouldn't take too long, that he needs his sleep… Those dark, messy locks that framed that handsome face when Draco looked down from his book, and green eyes that looked up into his, and that smile…

More rumbling, and this time it was a lot more ominous sounding than the previous time, louder, and deeper, and the sky seemed to be going completely black now. Draco walked up to the window to see if it was clear out there what was going on, but more than darkness that had enveloped the Welsh coast wasn't visible. Flashes of lightening appeared, and a sudden quietness that was rather eerie, a bit like what happened to the world whenever Lord Voldemort was about to make his presence known to those in the wizard world. His presence and his power…

Draco felt uncomfortable, like he used to in the days that the battle raged at Hogwarts, all those years ago. Something unpleasant was about to happen, he felt it in his gut, but what was it? The threat that Lord Voldemort used to pose was gone; Harry Potter and his friends had made sure of that (as Harry would remind him of every now and then, jokingly, saying that if it hadn't been for him and his mates, there wouldn't have been much chance of them being together at all, and wouldn't that be an awful thought), so it must be something else, another threat, but before Draco had the chance to come up with something viable, the world around him seemed to turn into something that resembled hell in his head – the wall next to his desk opened up, to let the sight of raging fire in, and then wind started blowing, making an enormous, thundering noise, blocking out anything else, like the ticking of the rain on his window. The gap in the wall emanated a foul smell, like trolls that hadn't bathed for months, and Draco felt like heaving, sat himself down on the bed to stop from falling down, and from the corner of his eyes he noticed a black, veiled, translucent figure appear, floating, and moving towards him. It looked vaguely like a Dementor, but before Draco had the chance to figure out what it actually was, he passed out and fell into a deep sleep.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

* * *

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

When Mycroft Holmes entered the living room of the small cottage he'd rented for a week a few hours later, he had expected nothing remotely resembling what he actually found. He thought there might have been Sherlock, his brother, ready to spoil his short, but desperately needed time-out here on the west coast of Wales. He also almost expected _Anthea_, his PA, tapping away on her Blackberry, waiting for him to return from his walk and tell him that The Country Needed Him… He even wouldn't have been thoroughly surprised if someone from the Ministry of Defence had been standing by the window… But instead he found a blonde young man, lying on his sofa, in a very deep sleep. He was lying on top of the blanket, draped as if placed there, arranged even, and Mycroft was taken aback a little by the view. He was rather beautiful, this young man, all elegant and slender, gracious looking, and he found himself staring at the sight before him, appreciating it quite a lot.

Mycroft stepped a little closer, trying to take in the way things had turned. He had just been for a long walk along the beach that stretched out on both sides of the cottage, which was quite small, but very cosy and just what he needed for a short break from the demands made on him in London. No demands were made on him here, nobody wanted him, and he could do what he pleased. And all he pleased was books, and walks, and the odd cup of coffee. The thought of lovely looking young chaps had indeed entered his mind once in a while, but this wasn't really what he'd expected.

Snapping himself out of the daze he had slipped into, Mycroft moved forward a little more, wanting to make sure that the vision in front of him was actually still alive, and he moved a hand towards the young man's face, near his nose, and decided that he was indeed breathing, if only slightly. Quickly he moved away again, not wanting to be too close in case the fair-haired lad on his settee was to wake and god knows what he might be thinking…

He looked around him, wondering how this guy had been able to get into his room. The door hadn't been forced, and the window was, although slightly ajar, locked as well, and no signs of a break-in were found. He could see no hatch door above him, coming from the ceiling, nor was there a door in any of the walls, hiding a secret passage way to another room. He kneeled down, looking for evidence of the carpet having been moved, or there being any sign of entrance there, but there too was not a clue as to how he could've been provided with a guest. A quick look upstairs ruled out ways of entering there as well.

Feeling rather flummoxed, and out of ideas, Mycroft sat down in the armchair near the window. The wind was playing with the net curtain, making it dance, and providing a view outside every now and then. The world was dark, with a few lights along the beach, but a serenity remained, nothing like it had been an hour or so before. There had been a thunderstorm, out of the blue, with lightning and a sudden darkness, and Mycroft had to make his way fast to a nearby beach café to hide from it. The freak storm lasted only minutes, and went away as quickly as it appeared, and while Mycroft and a few other customers in the café were nourishing their tea, the world looked rather lovely again, with the sun going down and the sky a bright orangey pink. As if nothing had happened.

There was some stirring on the settee, and slight groaning, and Mycroft swiftly turned his head to make out what his 'guest' was up to. He saw that the blonde tried to lift his head up, then thought better of that, and groaned some more. He rubbed his face with one hand, seemed to be taking in the surroundings by slowly turning his head, and when his eyes arrived at Mycroft, he stopped.

"Who are you?" he croaked.

"May I ask the same of you?" Mycroft answered in his usual unruffled manner, not taking his eye off the man on his settee.

"Why am I here? Have you abducted me?" the blonde spoke suddenly in a bewildered way, having lifted his head off the sofa now, carefully.

"No I have not. You were here when I came back from my walk, I found you, sleeping on my sofa, and I'm very intrigued to find out why that is…'

Nothing.

"And your name is…?"

"Um… Don't know…"

"Don't know… How convenient…"

"I don't know! I can't tell you cos I don't know…" the young man sounded fairly desperate now, and fell back onto the settee, with his hands in front of his eyes.

"Alright now, calm down… Whatever happened to you may have caused you a slight trauma to the head. I shall make you a cup of tea. Maybe things will start to come back in a short while…"

Mycroft moved towards the electric kettle in the tiny kitchen and with it walked up to the sink near the window, filling it with fresh water. While doing so he felt the eyes of the young man boring into his back, and this bothered him somewhat. Looking around to see what he was doing, he realised that he needn't worry much, as the lad on the settee was just about able to move himself to a sitting position, all the while groaning and looking upset.

"Don't strain yourself too much," Mycroft said, feeling a rush of concern. Where did that come from?

"My head…" the boy whimpered. He then noticed what Mycroft was doing and looked very confused. "What are you doing?"

"Boiling water so that I can make some tea for us…" Mycroft looked confused now. The trauma must be severe then…

"What, you don't use a cauldron? And there's no fire!"

"Um, no… We're not camping out in the woods now, are we?" _God forbid_, he added silently to that.

"Then how does the water boil?"

"Electricity…?"

"Sorry?"

"Elec… Look, don't strain yourself, okay? You've obviously had quite a trauma, if the simple concept of electric kettles puzzles you in this way."

The kettle came to boiling point and clicked off, spooking the young man a little, and he watched Mycroft with beady eyes as he picked up two mugs from a tray on the table, placed a small paper bag in each of them, poured steaming water from the strange white device into the mugs and left them to stew for a while. The bags were then taken out again with a teaspoon, and Mycroft asked if he wanted milk in his tea. Confused eyes stared back.

"No then… Here you go, I'll put your mug on the coffee table, you let it cool down a little first."

They sat in silence for a bit. Mycroft kept staring at the lad on his sofa, and the young man looked around the room, trying to make sense of where he was. He noticed a mirror near the fireplace, and looked at himself in it. Mycroft saw something happen, observed the small changes in his demeanour. His eyes seemed to realise something, and a smile appeared on his face.

"I remember now," the boy said. "I just looked in that mirror there, and think I know who I am."

"Okay then, out with it…"

"I'm... I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy estate."

"Okay…" Mycroft wrecked his brain to figure out why he had never heard of this name before. All important families were known to him.

"I'm a wizard."

"You're a what?!"

"I'm a wizard, I work as a Healer, and I do research for the Ministry. And I live with Harry…" he carried on, oblivious to the utter confusion the other man in the room was in. "Harry! I must know how he's doing…" and he looked around for his wand, needing suddenly to get an owl to send a message. "Where's my wand? What have you done with it?"

"Your what? You talk in riddles, boy…"

'I need my wand, I have to get a message over to my partner, let him know I'm okay."

"You can use my phone, if you want…"

"Sorry?"

"My phone, to send a message… To let your boyfriend know…"

"I need an owl, Mr…"

"Oh, right… Mycroft Holmes," he answered as he held out his hand. Then: "Owl?!" staring at Draco slightly bewildered. "You really think you're a wizard?"

"I _know_ I'm a wizard, Mr Holmes." Draco smiled a very striking, cocky smile at the older man in the room. "And a brilliant one at that."

Mycroft laughed, spilling some of his tea on his shirt, and looked at Draco, who stared back with charming confidence. "You're serious…"

"Yep, I'm serious… Here, let me show you," Draco looked around to see what would be harmless enough for a quick magic spell, and decided that the third mug would be fine. He concentrated, felt his head hurt a little, and pointed a hand at the white mug on the tray on the table, mumbled '_accio mug_' and waited for the mug to move. When nothing moved, he tried it again, speaking slightly louder, but still the mug stayed put. Draco looked up to see Mycroft stare back, with eyebrows aloft.

"Some magic," he said.

"Maybe this room is hexed… It's happened before, and some spells wouldn't work. I'll try another…" he closed his eyes for some extra concentration and pointed his hand at the cup once more. "Wingardium Leviosa..."

Still nothing…

"Weird… I haven't needed my wand for years… Not since Harry taught me… Why won't it fly?"

"Because you're not really a wizard, and you're trying to wind me up?" Mycroft unfolded his arms and sat in the chair by the window, holding his mugs of tea near his face. "Just a wild stab..."

"I _am_, a wizard, Mr Holmes. Whether you believe me or not… Not many Muggles have come across…"

"Muggles? What in heaven's name is a _Muggle_? Where are you from, Mr Malfoy?"

"I live in Scotland, at the moment, but I've lived in Malfoy Manor, which is in Somerset until I went to boarding school, up in Scotland... Far away from people like you, so that I can do what it is I need to do… As I said, people like you…"

"_Muggles_," Mycroft said with an air of drama.

"Well, yes, you are unfamiliar with what we do, I've seen it before. And to explain what I am to you would mean you taking rather a big leap of faith, and I won't ask that of you… I do however need my wand back so if you have taken that from me, I would appreciate it if I could have to returned, thank you." Draco looked persistently at Mycroft, who stared at him is disbelief.

"I haven't seen a_ wand_, Mr Malfoy. And if you don't mind, I would like to have a quick look on my laptop to see if I can find anything out about you. If of course you have given me your real name, and not some fictional one, cos that sounds funkier…"

"You do what you have to do, Mr Holmes." Draco pulled his legs up to wrap his arms around them and watched Mycroft's moves closely. "And what may I ask is it that you do, then? You exude a certain authority, a bit like my father used to, when he still meant something in the wizard world."

Mycroft smiled. He liked to be recognised for his standing, even by a strange young man like this one.

"I work for the government. But I can't tell you in what capacity... I'd have to shoot you, okay? Now, let me see… Malfoy, you said… Are there various spelling forms?"

Draco watched as his name was under scrutiny, saw the Muggle government man taping away on a keyboard and frown heavily. He tapped some more, looked at him and sighed.

"You're not in here," he heard.

"No, of course not. The Malfoys are unfindable in the Muggle World, we make sure of that…"

"But I can find something about that Ministry of Magic that you mentioned earlier. Why haven't I come across that before…?" Mycroft moved a hand to his mouth, assuming pondering mode. "The Prime Minister apparently gets a visit from one of your people once in a while… How come I didn't know this?!"

"Maybe your PM wanted to keep us to himself?" Draco smiled mischievously, and saw that this wasn't much appreciated. "Sorry…"

"Classified, apparently. Even for me…" Mycroft got his phone out, and pressed a few buttons on it, looking for a phone number, then put the machine to his ear and waited, lifting a finger towards Draco, mumbling, "Just a minute…"

Draco smiled, and made his way off the bed, very carefully. He had a quick look to determine whether or not his wand was around, did a quick _accio wand_, and sighed when nothing much happened.

"Yes, hello, Prime Minister, Holmes here, hi… Yes, I know… I'll be back soon, don't worry. No, I know, I apologise for the sudden nature of this, but I will be of so much more use to you next week… Oh, I see. Yes, I get that… again: apologies for that. I shall get Nigel on the case, sir. Just a quick query to you, sir, I have a young man here with me… no, not like that… and he's determined that he's a wizard. Now, I'm all for getting the asylum involved, but I found on the site that you have certain dealings with the Ministry of Magic, is that right? Oh… right… Okay… I see… Yes, I shall not bother you any more today… Thank you very much, sir, and I'll speak to you next week… Okay, cheers…"

"Well?" Draco asked.

"Well… Apparently you're right, about that Ministry… Apparently you guys do exist, and there's been a few more cases reported just now, of wizards trapped in our world. Something to do with that strange storm a little earlier today."

"Trapped?"

"Yes, trapped, and there's only one place that I can think of that wouldn't be alarmed by this, and possibly be sufficiently qualified to deal with it…"

"What, aurors?" Draco asked perplexed.

"No! Not _aurors_, whatever they are…" Mycroft looked a tad annoyed. He opened his laptop again and started looking for the information that he needed. When he found it, he turned the screen towards Draco, who stared at it nonplussed.

"What am I looking at?"

"This… Torchwood…" Mycroft snapped. "They'll know what to do…"


	2. two is company

**2. two is company...**

"Ianto! Can you take that please!"

The dark haired young man in the filing area, technically furthest away from the telephone, looked around to see if it was really him who was wanted. They were short-staffed today, and he was aware of being relied on his ability to just jump in whenever needed, but this really took the biscuit.

"Can't you? You're virtually on top of the phone!" the young man shouted back.

"I'm in the middle of something, and the others aren't here!" he heard his colleague shout back.

Nothing for it then, he thought, and walked over to the office where their boss (and his occasional squeeze) Jack Harkness resided in most of the day. He wasn't around now. He was in London, apparently for an urgent meeting with MI6, or something to that extent. He hadn't paid attention; all he could think of was how much he'd miss Jack. Something for which Ianto Jones felt a bit of a dolt.

He saw Toshiko deep in thought as he reached the work area, and left her to whatever it was she was doing. The phone kept on ringing, and Ianto fully expected it to stop as soon as he reached it.

"Hello?"

A loud crackling sound was al he heard, and he repeated his opening line.

"Is there anybody there?" Ianto tried, and was greeted with a quiet 'hello' back. "Who is this? Can I help you?"

"_Is this Torchwood?"_ asked the voice on the other end.

"Yes, this is Torchwood. Ianto Jones speaking, how can I help?"

"_Oh good. Good morning… Could I speak to Captain Jack Harkness please? It's rather urgent_…" Ianto noticed how posh the voice was.

"Um, well, no. He's not here now. Can I take a message? Or help you in any way?"

"_When will he be back?"_

"No idea… Tomorrow, three days from now… All depends on how distracted he is really…" Ianto felt himself getting annoyed by the reality of this, knowing how bad Jack was at turning down a good time.

"_Oh I see… Well, you'll have to do then, I suppose_…"

"Thanks," Ianto was warming to the man on the other end tremendously.

"_Um, right. How shall I say this…? My Name is Mycroft Holmes, I work for the government, and I'm staying in a small town called Newport for a few days. Have you guys had any notifications of people being trapped here from another… dimension?_"

"How do you mean? Another dimension? You mean aliens?"

"_No, not aliens…"_ the man called Mycroft answered. Then, slightly muffled: "_Are you an alien? No? No, definitely not an alien_…"

"So, if you're not dealing with aliens, in what way do you mean another dimension?" Ianto was getting a little confused, but knew that sightings could be quite muddled, as not many people knew what they were dealing with. And this man was sounding fairly calm, compared to the panic-stricken folk he would talk to sometimes.

"_A wizard?"_

"A what?!"

"_Exactly, that's what I said… I have a young man here who's convinced he's a wizard, and a quick phone call to the prime minister's office informed me of the fact that there's a few more people from the wizard world trapped in our world, so to speak. This one appears to have lost his ability to… do magic…_"

"And he's supposed to be _trapped_ here?" Ianto asked. "Could you just hang on a minute, please, Mr Holmes?"

Ianto put the receiver down on the desk and walked over to where Toshiko was engrossed in the reprogramming of a peculiar looking piece of equipment and it took a while before Ianto could make eye contact with her.

"Sorry to bother you Tosh, but have you heard something about wizards being trapped in this world at all? It's just that I have this guy on the phone and he says that he has a wizard with him who can't go back to his world…"

Toshiko looked at him puzzled, her mind still on the small machine she was busy reprogramming, and Ianto almost felt bad for having asked her. "What? Wizards? No, I don't think so…"

"Nobody mentioned anything? Did Gwen not leave any notes, or Jack maybe?"

"You could look on Gwen's desk, I know she had made some inquiries yesterday that sounded rather strange to me. I think they're in the top drawer." Toshiko waved a hand in the direction of their other colleagues' area, and sighed a deep sigh. "Oh, and some of that divine coffee of yours would be marvellous, Ianto…" after which she smiled sweetly.

Ianto smiled an ironic smile back, and went off to check the space that Tosh mentioned. Coffee… Chance would be nice in this place…

He opened the drawer, after having looked through all the files on the top, not seeing anything that referred to wizards, and he wasn't expecting to find anything more that the many elastics and paperclips amongst the folders. His surprise was big, when he saw the blue folder on top with the words Wizards scribbled on top. Ianto opened it quickly, and felt himself plunged into even more confusion. The Ministry of Magic?! Muggles?! Lord Voldemort?! Aurors? Ianto was baffled by the terminology used, and even more so when he saw that No. 10 Downing Street was well aware of all this.

"He, Tosh, did you know that there's wizards living amongst us as we speak?"

"Yeah? Didn't you know then? I once had a run in with a particularly cute one, a few years ago, but he died, apparently. Some wizard's tournament, I was told." Tosh looked a bit saddened, far away, but perked up when she remembered what she was asked. "Did you really not know?"

"Obviously… I had no idea… But what do we do about this guy that's trapped? How do we get him back?"

"You should probably go over there and ask him what he knows."

"I should?" Ianto looked alarmed. "Why me?"

'Because I'm sure you can handle this on your own, and because I've got to get this finished by the end of today… Apart from that coffee that you can make before you leave, you can be spared, sort of…" Toshiko tried her best to smile sweetly at her colleague. "And anyway, Newport isn't the other end of the country, is it?"

* * *

Quite a bright sun was shining on the beach where the front room window looked out onto. Draco Malfoy took small sips from the tea he was offered by his host, who himself was sitting at the table, tapping away on his small computer, something with which he wasn't very familiar. Mycroft had just come off the phone (another thing that baffled Draco slightly) to the people he tried to talk to him about the evening before, something to do with torching wood, which honestly didn't fill Draco with much confidence, but Mycroft was adamant that they would be able to get him back to his own world, and although the man seemed a little haughty, he liked the cut of his jib. He reminded him of himself, a bit. Harry had called him haughty many times…

Harry… God he was really missing his partner, and knowing that he wasn't going to be able to speak to him, or receive messages from him was not a happy notion.

The evening before had been a pleasant one, with chats and a meal together and music that came from a tiny device called an _ipod_. Mycroft had tried to call the people in Cardiff, but nobody answered, so he vowed to try first thing in the morning, and set out to make a meal for them both. Then he confessed at being incapable of this, and Draco took over. Having lived with Harry Potter, who was needed as an auror at the weirdest of times (and therefore having to be away for days, sometimes weeks on end) meant that Draco has had to learn quite a few basics, like doing the laundry and cooking meals. Which was no mean feat for someone who's had servants and house elves doing most of the jobs the Malfoys considered themselves too good for. Getting it on with Harry Potter had been a very educational experience for Draco, in many ways. Not just in the domestic areas of his life.

Mycroft proved to be a very pleasant, intelligent and intriguing companion. If not a bit prim, and he reminded him of his dad in many ways.

"Have you not left anybody behind in London?" Draco had asked, twiddling the stem of the wineglass between his fingers.

"No." was the curt answer he received.

"Really? Nobody missing you?"

"No, unless you count my housekeeper, Mrs Greenaway, but I'm pretty sure she's not too bothered…" Mycroft grinned. "Well, actually, maybe my brother, and in the case of him being rather bothersome, the Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard…"

"Why? Is he a criminal then?" Draco looked puzzled, wondering how this man could have a delinquent for a brother.

"What, Sherlock? No, he calls himself a Consulting Detective, he solves cases that Scotland Yard have problems with. Very clever, my little brother… But also a huge pain in the behind, sometimes…" Another grin.

"Why? In what way?"

"Doesn't play by the rules much, if you know what I mean. He has no idea when he's gone too far with people, when he's hurt their feelings, and he just helps himself to stuff from the hospital where he's allowed to use the lab, so I've had to come to his rescue on rather a lot of occasions… But he's a good person, really. And now that he's found deep friendship with his flatmate, he seems to be changing… Ever so slightly, but still…"

"Amazing what love can do, isn't it?" Draco smiled.

"Apparently… Not had much experience with it, to be honest…"

"I don't believe that for one minute, Mr Holmes." Draco looked at his host baffled. "A man like you?"

"Well, I'll have to disappoint you, Mr Malfoy. I live for my job, and to keep my brother in line, and that leaves hardly any time for a relationship."

Draco poured more wine in both glasses and thought about that for a minute. He knew that he would've been in that exact position right now, living for his job, if it hadn't been for Harry sweeping him off his feet. Granting that was a pretty unlikely thing to have happened, what with the big battle at Hogwarts, and his family not exactly being very anti-Lord Voldemort, and the first year after the battle, when their year were given another chance to sit their N.E.W.T.s and chose what education they were up for (depending on how scarred one was, emotionally or physically), how sensitive the whole defeating Voldemort was with Harry and his mates… His own feelings for the guy who Lived and Defeated were only growing stronger, and after they graduated, and chose the same college, even ended up in the same Quidditch team, there came space to get to know each other better. Away from Hogwarts, away from the horrible things that happened there, away from pain and doubt, something beautiful started to blossom, and Draco would've never believed it if anybody had predicted this. Never in a million years… Not until Harry actually kissed him, when they sat on that bench by the lake, and the amazing roller coaster of their relationship took off.

Draco's tea was finished and he placed the mug on the window sill. He tried a silent _accio mug_ to see if anything had changed yet, but the mug stayed where he'd just put it. The sound of a car on the drive broke his concentration.

"Someone's coming," he said to Mycroft. "Must be those torch people…"

"Ah, great," Mycroft mumbled and closed his laptop. He rose from his chair and walked up to the window where Draco was standing, looking to see what was happening.

They both heard a car door slam.

"Just one?" Mycroft asked to himself.

"Sounds like it…"

Someone knocked on the door. Mycroft sped to it to open up, and smiled a polite smile to the man in front of him. He then moved to look for possible others behind him but they failed to materialise, and Mycroft stuck out his hand.

"Mycroft Holmes, pleased to meet you."

"Ah, Mr Holmes, we spoke on the telephone," answered the man. "My name is Ianto Jones, I work for Torchwood."

"And you're on your own…"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all… I just thought that… Never mind… Um, this is Draco Malfoy, the wizard of whom I spoke on the phone," Mycroft carried on in as diplomatic a voice he could muster.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy, Ianto Jones,"

"Hello, Ianto," Draco smiled. _Cute_, he thought quickly to himself. "Please call me Draco…"

_Why am I feeling this warm all of a sudden?!_ Draco thought, not happy with his body's reaction to the lovely looking Welsh guy in their midst. For fuck's sake…

"Okay, _Draco_," the cute Welsh chap answered pointedly, and smiled.

_No, don't smile! Please don't smile… _

"Okay, if you two are done, can I offer you a cup of tea, Mr Jones, you must've had a bit of a drive from Cardiff," Mycroft cut in. He moved his hand to indicate the way to the kitchen and waited for the others to get going.

"Yeah, once I figured out that you meant Newport near Fishguard, not down the road from Cardiff…" Ianto grinned.

"I thought I told you?"

"Yeah, you did, but I was distracted…" Ianto blushed when he said this. "I had to ring the office back to ask Tosh, my colleague, to look up the address you gave me, and then I had to put my foot on the gas… Luckily we have a sturdy beast of a car now."

"Well, you've made it… Do you take milk?"

"No thanks. Lovely place you have here, Mr Holmes." Ianto said while looking around.

"I only have this for a week. It's not mine." Mycroft looked on as Ianto eyed up his guest, who was staring out of the window again. Not letting his own eyes leave Draco, "It's pretty indeed."

* * *

Most of the night was spent trying to stop himself from thinking of the blond guy he found on his sofa that evening, stopping himself from being spellbound, hypnotised by his timeless beauty. Mycroft couldn't think where this sudden infatuation came from, whether it was just because he was away from his normal surroundings, or that this guy had put a kind of spell on him. He was after all a wizard…

A wizard?! You've got to be kidding, his rational mind cut in. Wizards don't exist. They're the thing of fairy tales, of stories, they're not real… This guy is probably a lunatic, escaped from some mental hospital, although checking the nearest ones hadn't brought up any cases of escaped patients, but then, he may have missed something, or possibly not all escaped idiots were reported. In any case, there must've been a logical explanation.

But what if there wasn't? What if this guy really _was_ a wizard, and he really _was_ trapped in his world, and he had to stay for a while? The length of his short vacation, perhaps? That would be nice… And slowly Mycroft found himself getting rather excited about that prospect. To be in this secluded cottage, with only the company of a slender, fit, young, gorgeous…

For god's sake, pull yourself together, Mycroft Holmes, shouted his rational mind. This guy is only twenty three, and he's in a stable relationship, and you have no business assuming that he might be wanting to have it off with an old man like you… You could be his dad…

Well, that put his libido in check for about five minutes.

Enough time to fall asleep and carry on his lurid thoughts in the form of dreams, and when he woke up he was ready to leap on the boy.

The morning was tricky, and Mycroft thought of a million ways to keep himself occupied and out of harm's way. He succeeded with this, and thoughts of any kind of yearning nature were kept under wraps very well.

That was, until Ianto Jones from Torchwood appeared and he found the guy poring over his wizard…


	3. lost worlds

**3. lost worlds**

"So, if you could tell me exactly what happened last night then, Draco."

The three men sat around the table in the kitchen, where a laptop was placed along side teamugs and the fruitbowl, with a video link to the underground hub that Torchwood used in Cardiff.

"Be as accurate as you possibly can. That way my colleague Tosh, who's on that screen there, may be able to do some research while we try to figure it out here amongst ourselves…" Ianto smiled.

"I'll try," Draco smiled back. The atmosphere was electric.

"Shall I just go?" Mycroft sulked, and moved to get up.

"No, Mr Holmes, we'll need you as well…" Ianto replied eagerly. "Don't go yet…"

Mycroft was struck by the hint of longing he heard in the voice of the young man. It baffled him, and he sat down on his chair again, wondering what was going to happen next.

Draco looked at them both, felt a pang of jealousy course though him and closed his eyes, commanding a vision of Harry on his mind's eye. This settled him quickly, and he sighed deeply.

"Right, um… Well, I was doing my work, I'm a healer in my world, I help people to deal with emotional problems," Draco started.

"What, like a shrink here?" Ianto offered.

"A what?"

"A psychiatrist, he means, a doctor of the mind…" Mycroft explained, catching the eye of the Welsh young man, trying to figure out how old he was. Mid twenties? Late twenties? He seemed to possess an astuteness that went beyond his age, but also plenty of down to earth common sense, and this reminded him of Sherlock's new roommate, John Watson. Both feet firmly on the ground, but he was certainly not thick either… Mycroft was starting to like this chap…

"Right. So I was reading up on a potion that my colleagues were having trouble with, and suddenly I hear thunder in the distance. Which annoyed me, cos I was hoping to go for a walk."

"And where were you staying then?"

"I had taken a room in a guesthouse in the village here, a bit further along the coast."

"And you were alone in this room?"

"Um, yes! What are you implying?"

"Nothing, just trying to establish a picture in my head of your circumstances, Draco…" Ianto smiled again. "Trying to get an idea of your state of mind, as it were…'

"My state of mind was fine, Ianto Jones…"

"What, no issues? Nothing troubling you?"

"I know my mind very well, thank you… There is nothing wrong with it. Apart from maybe missing my partner…" Draco plastered on a smile for a second. He glanced over at Mycroft, who was busy observing their guest. Or was it ogling? Funny, cos an hour ago he noticed that he was the one being ogled, rather liberally… Hmm…

"As I was saying, there was thunder, and I felt very uncomfortable, sensing that something was about to happen, and then the sky went black, and that's the last thing I can recall…" Draco carried on, playing with the teaspoon that lay on the table next to his mug.

"Okay. Anything you can add to that, Mr Holmes?"

"Mycroft please, and yes, I noticed the same sudden darkness. I was on the beach, a bit further towards the town, near this beach café, on a walk, and within seconds the sky was overcast. Very densely. It had been raining for a while, so it had been cloudy, but this was as if the sun had been switched off."

"That's it, yeah," Draco perked up.

"And then all sorts of weather happened at the same time, and I had to run inside the café to hide from it all, and then minutes later it stopped and we had glorious sunshine… Very odd…"

"Nothing else? Just the thunder and freak weather?" Ianto was making notes in a notebook which he had taken out of his laptop bag. "Okay. Has anything like this ever happened to you before, Draco? These sudden changes in weather? Like a foreboding? I'm guessing you wizards work with your intuition a lot?"

"Well, yeah, there have been times, but the reasons for that have been eliminated years ago. By my partner and a load of his friends. There shouldn't be anything left of… the threat that was there before. I mean – it shouldn't be possible…" Draco stared out in front of him, drifted into a state of slight trance.

"Your partner, is he called Harry Potter? Is he the one who defeated someone called Lord Voldemort? Ianto carried on, trying to keep Draco with them.

Mycroft looked at him dumbfounded. Ianto smiled and held up a hand as if to ask for trust. They both looked at Draco nodding.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Is there a possibility at all for this Lord Voldemort, or one of his allies, to want to get back at Harry, via you?"

"As I said, there shouldn't be," Draco's voice was still hushed. "He killed him… I saw it… He obliterated him… Into a thousand pieces… And with him gone, there wasn't anybody left with any kind of power to do what Voldemort had been able to. Nobody…"

"Could Harry himself…" Ianto tried, and was answered with a glare from Draco.

"He would never do that… He loves me…"

"Even lovers have been known to turn, Draco," Mycroft said.

"But Harry… He can't…" and with that he stood up. "I know he loves me…" Draco added and stormed out of the house.

The other men were left staring at the door, stunned.

"Should we go after him?" Ianto asked after a while.

"Maybe we should give him some space…" Mycroft answered, still looking at the door, which had been smashed shut just now, then glancing at the man left at the table. "What have you come up with so far then, Mr Jones?"

"Not a great deal… and it's Ianto, thank you…"

"Sorry, Ianto… Well?"

"Well, there _could_ be a rift in space, but there hasn't been any activity in the one we've been monitoring over the past three years, so I'm ruling that one out. And there also hasn't been mention of a new rift, and I would've definitely known about it, so that's not very likely…" Ianto said, while staring at his screen. He then looked sideways to see blue eyes stare back at him intensely, and he quickly turned back to his laptop.

"Ah, I see. Very interesting… So you basically haven't a clue?"

"None…"

Both men laughed, easing whatever tension was still in the air.

"Well, that's promising…" Mycroft carried on. He was feeling emboldened by the change in atmosphere, and by his being in neutral territory, one where his every move wasn't watched, and he wasn't feeling under scrutiny. Least of all by himself. "So tell me, Ianto Jones, is there a Mrs Jones waiting for you in Cardiff?"

"Sorry?" Ianto looked sideways again, confused. He felt himself blushing as he saw Mycroft's intense stare. "My mum might…"

"And apart from her?"

"I'm not married, Mycroft. And I'm not seeing anyone. Not seriously anyway…" he stared at his hands for a minute, trying to assess the situation. Was he seriously made a pass at here? "Are you coming on to me, Mycroft?"

"No!"

"I don't mind…"

"I wasn't…"

"It's okay…"

"Right…'

"I'll make us some coffee, okay? While we wait for Draco to come back." Ianto got up from his chair and went to find the ingredients he needed for his next endeavour. He was just made a pass at by the only other man he ever instantly fancied, apart from Jack.

Shit…

* * *

Draco walked for miles before he stopped crying. He hated it when he cried. Especially when there were people around, and with Mycroft and Ianto in the room, he'd be damned if he was going to lose his decorum in front of them.

But the mere mention of Harry and his being capable of putting a curse on him was enough to make him feel enraged, and sad. Because he knew that Harry was strong enough a wizard to pull it off. And their feelings for each other had been rather harrowed, to say the least.

Draco had tried a mental healing method on Harry – with his consent - a few months before, trying to get him to come to terms with some of the things that still haunted him from the war at Hogwarts, but it had backfired, and Harry had been left very distressed, and Draco had no idea how to mend him again. And if he, the best young mental Healer of the Wizarding World couldn't heal his own boyfriend, then who could?

Well, plenty of others could, and that's what happened, when Harry went off to stay at St. Mungo's for a few weeks, only to come back with the idea that they should live apart from each other for a while… They had just become adults, and they were living together like an old married couple. Which threw Draco a lot.

The wind was strong, he felt suddenly, and it had been rather foolish to have come out here without a coat, with only his big jumper on. Draco turned around to go back to the cottage, but was stopped by a black translucent figure, that hovered a few feet from the air in front of him. It looked just like the Dementors he'd seen years before, when they were keeping guard at Hogwarts, and Draco felt very disturbed. Feelings of fear came back to him, feelings he'd been suppressing for the best part of ten years now. He closed his eyes, trying to block the figure out, and when he opened them again, it had gone.

Had he just dreamt this? Made it up?

He walked on, back towards the cottage, in a state of confusion, and felt happy to see the building in front of him. He had grown fond quickly of Mycroft, with his mature intellect, seemingly easy with words, and Draco felt safe with him. He was what, forty-odd? Attractive in a kind of classic way that Professor Snape had been to him. Distant, yet fascinating…

And Ianto…

Bloody Ianto…

Bloody gorgeous, charming, adorable Ianto Jones with his alluring smile that made his nether regions do all sorts of funny things. Things he really didn't want to have to deal with…

Well, seen as he was as good as single at the moment…

He reached the path to the cottage, feeling all over the place, and cold, and hungry and he was looking forward to talking to the guys in the house again, tell them about the Dementor, when he noticed something that was going on in the kitchen window.

* * *

The smell of fresh coffee had filled the whole house. The small metal percolator was still steaming as Ianto switched off the gas, and picked the device off the stove. He put two mugs on the sink and filled them with fresh coffee, one of which he handed to Mycroft, who was standing next to him.

He watched as the aroma made its way to Mycroft's senses, and his eyes closed, how he then took a sip, and closed his eyes, a look of delight, nay – sheer joy, fall onto his face. Ianto always loved that moment.

"I don't think I've ever had coffee that was this… Beautiful…" Mycroft smiled, as he let the first sips move their way down his throat.

"I get that a lot…" Ianto smiled back.

"I bet you do…" Mycroft looked deeply into the other man's eyes, wanting to act upon the strong feelings he felt rushing through his body, but narrowly avoided this. He cleared his throat and took another few sips. He quickly looked out of the window to see if their companion was on his way back yet, but only seagulls flew over, and the sun was still shining. This coffee was easily the best he'd had in his life, and somehow that made Ianto even more attractive than he already was. Nothing prepared him for the bit that came next.

"Has anybody ever told you how lovely your eyes look when the sun lights them up, Mycroft?"

This made him choke on his drink, and he was coughing badly to stop himself from dying. Ianto came to his rescue, passing him a glass of water and patting him not quite so lightly on his back.

"Thanx," he spluttered. "I'm alright…"

"No you're not…"

Mycroft carried on coughing for a little longer, and when he finally stopped he looked rather awful. Red eyes and a red face gazed at Ianto, who smiled so sweetly, that Mycroft only felt a little bit hopeless as he wiped tears out of his eyes.

"You're quite cute when you choke to death, you know…" Ianto giggled. He then moved to stroke his face, gently, and stopped as he reached his mouth.

"Thank you," Mycroft whispered back, unable to respond in any other way. He felt how a thumb moved lightly over his lips, and how a hand was placed on his hip, and squeezed him tenderly. He closed his eyes, wanting to savour this, wishing to register all that happened at that moment. The thumb on his lips carried on, and he pressed a light kiss on it, then opened his mouth slightly, wanting to feel more of it. The body of his gorgeous coffee maker moved a bit closer, and Mycroft was in no doubt about the state of affairs down below. His breath was deepening, becoming heavy, as was that of Ianto, who moved his thumb slightly more towards the inside of his mouth, picking up some of its moistness, and this made Mycroft lick it involuntarily, and he groaned at the delight of that sensation. God, fuck… Since when was someone touching like that so godforsaken wonderful?! Not that Mycroft could remember the last time that anybody had done this to him… Unpaid, anyway…

"Jesus, Ianto… I think you should stop this…" Mycroft breathed, and regretted the second he said it.

"Yeah?" was his answer, and the caressing of his mouth stopped, only to have the hand that had been lying on his hip move up to cup his head, then snake around his neck. His body crowded him out against the sink, almost fusing his, so close he felt. "You sure?"

"No…" whispered Mycroft, and felt a desire as strong as the ocean to kiss this guy. His mouth was so close, and he could feel his breath on his lips, slight groaning escaping him, and the arm around his neck felt unbelievably thrilling.

"Shit!" he suddenly heard.

"Sorry? What?" the arms that were holding him were gone, and he felt cold, deserted, and he looked at Ianto the see what was happening.

"Draco is back… I saw him stare at us through the window…"

Fuck…

"Do you think he saw… us…?"

"Pretty sure," Ianto replied, feeling embarrassed, and coughed. After he adjusted his shirt and took a sip of water, hoping that he looked his least dishevelled, he walked up to the door to open it up and see if Draco was still there.

"Hey!" he almost yelled. "Glad you're back… You must be freezing…"

"Yeah, sorry to walk in on your little party…" Draco glared at him, then at Mycroft.

"You weren't… This isn't… You want some coffee?" Mycroft tried to rescue the situation.

"Whatever…" Draco sighed and plonked himself on the sofa. This was not how he hoped his coming back was going to go. He had no real ideas of what should happen instead, maybe hoping to get Ianto on his own later for a bit of fun, but this turn of events was not what he had foreseen. Wasn't this guy here for him? Wasn't he supposed to help him get back to being the brilliant wizard he had been before? Why was Mycroft sticking his oar in before him?

Bastard…

The rest of the day went by rather less jolly than it had been up until then. Ianto tried to get more information via Tosh in Cardiff but the WiFi kept failing, Mycroft had made some calls to Downing Street, and Draco stared into the fire. And went for another walk. And made lunch. The atmosphere was lacklustre, to say the least. All three men behaved towards each other in the politest way they could, apart from Draco, who just sulked, and they spoke rarely, only to ask necessary stuff, and then it was back to silence.

At four in the afternoon Ianto needed to go to the village, to get a better WiFi point, as the one the cottage wasn't strong enough, and he'd seen a sign on his GPS to indicate one being near the church.

"Do you want to go with him, Draco? Get some stuff for dinner?" Mycroft tried to ease the tension.

"Not really no…"

"But we'll need to eat…"

"So? We can go to that pub in the village… Don't feel like cooking…"

"We could… Have a pint or two while we're there…" Ianto answered, winking at Mycroft.

"Maybe. Don't know if the food there is any good…"

"Indian then?" Ianto tried. "Can't go wrong with that. Would you fancy that, Draco?"

The boy lifted his shoulders in a non-committal way, and carried on reading the gossip magazine that he found in a basket next to the sofa.

"Indian it is then… I'll get a table booked while I'm out. See you guys later, yeah?"

Ianto drove slowly to the village, feeling rather tense by what was going on in the cottage. He'd been witness to some awful alien related stuff in his career at Torchwood, and that had left him less freaked then this. He was finding himself in a bloody love-triangle, drawn to both blokes in the house, and all he was there for was to find a way back for a fucking wizard… Where was Jack when he needed him?!

A phone call from Tosh took his mind off his thoughts, and he pulled over for a minute.

"_Hey Ianto, I've found some stuff for you, some names in relation to this wizard thing. Have you got a pen?"_

Ianto scribbled some names on the pad he had lying in the glove compartment.

"Great, Tosh, you've done a fantastic job!"

"_How are you getting on there?_" Tosh sounded curious, in the way she did when she'd first cottoned on that there was more than just friendship going on between him and their boss. "_Two lovely chaps and you, trapped in a pretty cottage on the beach…? Ianto Jones…_"

"Fine, it's all fine… We're not getting anywhere, but maybe this new info will help…"

"_Right… So nothing else then?_"

"Nothing else, Tosh…"

"_Not even a teeny-weeny_…"

"Tosh!"

"_Okay, just wondering… It's really boring here, so I hoped you'd have something juicy for me to stop me from going mad… You know, a nice story_…"

"Tosh! For god's sake…"

"_Right… I'll just leave you to it then… You and your lovely chaps… Sure you don't need me there?"_

"No thank you, I'm fine…"

"_I'm sure you are… Lucky bastard_…"

Ianto smiled as he switched off his phone. Of course Tosh would figure this out from a few hundred miles away…

Upon arriving back at the cottage, he found the same heavy atmosphere as when he left, and he sighed as he put his laptop bag on the table. He poured himself some orange juice and sat down, across the table from Mycroft, who was on his own laptop with earplugs in. Ianto got out his notebook.

"Right, Draco, I've been given some names by Tosh, of other wizards who are stuck. Do they mean anything to you?" he started, talking to the back of the sofa. He was greeted by a low grunt. "Em, right… Luna Lovegod…"

"_Good_… She's Luna Love_good_… Not God…"

"Okay…"Ianto decided to have some face to face communicating, so moved to sit next to Draco on the sofa. "So, her, and Renata Underpath… Miranda Middledome… And Blaise Zabini…"

"Blaise?! Blaise is stuck? Where?"

"It didn't say, just that they have been reported as missing." Ianto looked at a more animated Draco than he'd seen so far. "Who's Blaise?"

"Oh, he's an old friend of mine from Hogwarts, where we went to boarding school. Lost touch with him after the war. He went to Romania to work in a dragon rescue centre."

"Right… So you have no idea what he was doing here?"

"Not really no. Though I heard that he may have lost his job."

"Okay. And do you know anything about this Luna… Lovegood?"

"Nutter… Loved Harry and his crew, though this was at a time when I officially couldn't stand them. Luna was this twee girl who was into fairies and frilly things, and drove us all mad with her ability to apparate really annoying pixies when you least needed them. Which was probably why she did it… I heard Harry mention last month that her dad died…" Draco suddenly moved towards Ianto, who was busy scribbling in his notebook, his face lit up. "You don't think… You don't think that that is the link, do you?"

"What is?" Ianto looked up from his writing.

"Loss! We've all lost something… I've lost Harry, sort of… Luna lost her dad, Blaise lost his job… That could be the link, couldn't it?"

"I suppose…"

"Makes sense," they heard Mycroft from the table. "Only thing to figure out now is how this link would make you get stuck here…"


	4. three's a crowd

**4. three's a crowd**

The restaurant was not very busy, and the three men were easily found a space to sit. They were guided to their place by a spotty young woman, who attempted to flirt with all three men, presumably hoping that one of them would bite.

"She's rather keen for a way out of this village," Draco whispered as she was out of earshot. "If she's coming on to all three of us…"

"Spreading her bets,' Mycroft sniggered.

"Not the only thing she'll spread," Draco snorted, only to be whacked on the arm by Ianto. "If you play your cards right, Ianto Jones… You might get lucky…"

"She's not my type…" he replied, not taking his eyes of the blond young man next to him.

"Boys, now… Behave, okay?" Mycroft mocked, while attempting to study the menu. He was happy that the atmosphere had eased in the hours that had gone. They'd made some ground in figuring out what was keeping Draco here, and without magic, after Ianto had come back from the village, and this eased up the young man tremendously.

"Okay, dad,' Draco teased. His grin was charming enough for Mycroft not to feel anything but fondness, and shortly after all three were staring at the menu. Draco's eyebrows rose higher with every line he read. "What's a Biryani? And a Poppadum?"

"They're types of meals, varying in spiciness and ingredients…" Ianto offered, wondering if the wizard was having them on. He went along with him. "Do you normally like your food spicy or not so much?"

"Fairly… What would you suggest?"

"I'd go for this one, I think," Ianto pointed at a section on the menu and showed it to Draco. "Depends on what veggies you like…"

The others made their choices quickly, guiding Draco through the many different possibilities, and waited for their orders to arrive while nursing some drinks. Draco had his first ever Muggle beer, Ianto tried some local ale, and Mycroft hoped that the wine was any good.

"Bet this isn't what you're used to, is it?" Ianto asked Mycroft, who was sitting to his left, as he noticed the man looking around the place.

"Indeed it isn't, but I'm not that much of a snob," Mycroft grinned.

"You'll lower your standards if you have to," Draco said in a posh accent.

"Sometimes I have no choice, my dear," Mycroft smirked. "I'm guessing you know what I mean?"

"Not so much lowering standards, as a change in attitude, I feel. Moving into a place with Harry, who comes from a completely different background than I do, made me have to be a lot less fussy. He'd be happy in a cave, whereas I lived in a mansion…"

"I wasn't referring to dwellings, myself…" Mycroft smiled.

"What, blokes you mean?"

"Maybe…"

"Well, I don't know about you, Mycroft, but only the best for me…"

"What, you've never been tempted to… You know… Quickie somewhere quiet?" Mycroft pulled a face that made Ianto laugh out loud.

Their starter arrived when Draco was about to launch into a reply, and he stopped when the waitress, who was wearing a name tag that said 'Moira' on it, hovered over him to put the glass bowl near him on the table.

"Hope you'll enjoy this, lads," she smiled.

"I'm sure we will, dear," Mycroft grinned back. "My son and his… friend… were just saying how lovely this restaurant looks…"

"Oh, I see," she said somewhat thrown. Draco barely contained his laughter, almost willing the waitress on her way.

"My son?! I'm your son?!" he said when he finished his laughing fit.

"You could easily be… If I created you when I was 21… Not that I ever… You know… Women aren't exactly my field of expertise…"

"Oh, and men are?"

"No, not really, but I know my way around a pair of boxes shorts…"

Again Draco roared with laughter, and Ianto giggled along with him, touching Mycroft's hand kindly, making it clear to him that they were only being silly, not having a pop at him.

"Hey, get your hands off my dad!" Draco exclaimed in mock-indignation.

"But… But… I love your dad!" Ianto followed suit.

"Boys, can we do this later? You're putting me off my prawn cocktail…"

They ate in relative silence for a while, to the obvious relief of a few of the other guests. There were three couples, varying in age from early twenties to middle age, and what looked like a business meeting between two women and a man, all were clad in formal looking suits and wielded the odd bit of paper around. Mycroft looked at them curiously. He was glad he wasn't one of them this week, just having a pleasant, informal, silly dinner with two lovely guys, in a peaceful village near the sea. He could get used to this.

"So Ianto, tell us," Draco spoke, as he leaned back in his chair, having finished his starter, "in your years in this alien business, what's the weirdest thing you've come across? You must've seen some crazy stuff…"

"Well, most of it is confidential, but there have been a few mad ones I can remember… Weevils are a bit weird… Nobody really knows where they come from, or why they live in Cardiff specifically, it's probably something to do with the rift, but we can't really be sure."

"Have you ever shagged an alien?"

"Draco!"

"What? Surely it must be tempting sometimes?"

"No, not really… Although my girlfriend at the time was being transformed into one, and I lost her while she was in the process…" His eyes glazed over as he told them about his ordeal, but seemed to snap out of it when he mentioned his boss, Jack Harkness.

"How_ is_ Jack?" Mycroft asked.

"God knows… Flirting away in a bar in London, I guess…"

"Not the most faithful man around, then?" Draco wondered.

"Not when there are fit guys nearby, no… He's weirdly attractive, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, when I had never before fancied a bloke in my life… And I tend to be a bit more committed than he'll ever manage to be, so I guess it'll never be more than a bit of fun between us…"

"So apart from him, you don't…"

"Well, that's the weird thing, you see… Since having been with Jack, I haven't fancied a woman at all… And I do get to meet quite lovely ones, really attractive… But all that gets me going these days is men!"

"Bloody hell, Ianto… What will you do?!" Draco teased him, spreading his arms out as if to make a 'come and get me' offer.

Ianto smiled back at him, raising his eyebrows flirtingly.

"Yeah, I remember Jack being incredibly frisky…" Mycroft mused, "I met him in Edinburgh once, about five years ago, in the bar of this hotel where there was a top secret meeting going on about alien threats, and even the guys that I knew had never betrayed their wives, were falling over themselves to impress Jack… It was hilarious…" Then, after some silence, "He's a fantastic kisser…"

"Oh god yeah…" Ianto confirmed with a swoon.

"I've been told I'm pretty good too," Draco said.

The other two looked at him amused.

"Maybe we should find out, later…" Ianto grinned.

"Hmm…" Mycroft added to that.

* * *

Dinner progressed languidly, conversations interspersed with loud laughter, which appeared to annoy the older couple sitting near them quite a bit. Mycroft tried to keep the levels of jolliness down, but the other two seemed to have their minds set on a good time, so he gave up after a while, and joined in. It had been years since he'd let his hair down like this. His serious lifestyle suited him well, and he wouldn't change it for anything (he made sure he'd get his bits of fun whenever there was the opportunity) but this was really rather wonderful. Ianto was the perfect companion to him, civilised, educated, attractive… And Draco reminded him of his youth, seemingly hundreds of years ago. Maybe he _was_ a great kisser… He really wouldn't mind trying it out…

His phone rang as they were coming towards the end of their main course. Downing Street wanted a 'quick' conference with him, and the battery of his phone wasn't going to last for that amount of time.

"If I go home in the car - if I may, Ianto? - I shall come to get you guys later on, okay?" he offered after explaining his situation.

"Nah, you're okay… You have no idea how long it will last. We'll walk back. It's a nice evening, and it won't take that long…" Ianto replied, passing the keys to the SUV to Mycroft.

"Are you sure?" Mycroft sounded disappointed, knowing he was going to miss out on time with the lads. "It's not a problem…"

"We'll be fine. Have I got your number, just in case?" he browsed his list of contacts, noticing Mycroft's name in there and showed it to the older man. "There, we can ring you if we change our minds… You go off, the country might need you…"

Draco then got up and moved towards Mycroft, hugged him theatrically and smiled at him. Then, as Mycroft was ready to move away, he kissed him, briefly at first, and Mycroft seemed too puzzled to protest it, but Draco grabbed his head with one hand, looked Mycroft in the eyes and went in for another one, this time with less apprehension, and soon they were kissing like they were lovers about to part for years. Ianto looked away after a while, in a mixture of embarrassment and envy, and some diners expressed their disgust quite loudly. Then Draco decided that this was enough for now, stroked the skin of Mycroft's face, and slightly out of breath whispered: "More later?"

Mycroft nodded, then looked at Ianto, who had heard, and smiled at him too.

* * *

Although chilly, it was lovely outside when Draco and Ianto set off on their way to the cottage. Mycroft had settled the bill, to their surprise, and they added to the already generous tip of their friend, as a way of apologising for their disruptive behaviour.

"That poor girl! She was mortified when she saw you kiss Mycroft!" Ianto said when they had found the path that would lead them to the cottage.

"'_That's not your dad!_' Eh, no… Was it that obvious…?" Draco giggled, walking a little slowly, his vision still blurred from too many Muggle beers. "Even wizards don't stick their tongues down their father's throat, thank you…"

"She didn't know you're a wizard, though…"

"Nah, I guess not." Draco put his arm around Ianto, as a way of supporting himself, and because it felt nice. "I've never kissed a muggle before, you know."

"A what? Muggle? What is that?"

"You normal people, non-wizzz'rds," he explained with a slight slur.

"Right… So Mycroft was your first…" Ianto giggled. "He's deflowered you!"

Both men laughed, and carried on their path near the sea. The moon was out, shining brightly, creating sparkles on the water, which calmly crashed as waves onto the beach. The men were still holding each other, Draco an arm round Ianto's shoulder, and Ianto holding Draco around the waist, and carried on in silence for a while.

"So where in Scotland do you live then?" Ianto asked to break the silence.

"Hm? Oh, the south west, on an unplottable site near Galloway Forest. There's a small community of wizards, and we, Harry and I, live in an old farmhouse. We get quite a few people staying with us, Harry is really hospitable, offers a bed to anybody in need. I have a room for myself, in case I need some space…"

"What's unplottable?"

"So that you lot can't find it… Though most of you are too thick to even notice magic going on around you all the time… It's hysterical sometimes…"

"And you still live there? Now that you and Harry…"

"Yeah, I do. He's moved in with an old friend from Hogwarts, just for a while."

"You hope…"

Silence once more.

"Shall we sit here for a minute?" Draco asked with a muted voice. They had come to a look-out spot, which had a bench and a picnic table. He didn't wait for Ianto to answer and sidled onto the seat. When the other sat down next to him, he gently slipped sideways, so that he could rest his head on the nearby shoulder.

"You okay?" Ianto asked.

"Hm…" Draco sighed. "Might be that beer they served… Not used to it. Firewhisky is so much less… what is it…"

"Synthetic?"

"What's that?"

"Created artificially by humans, nowhere near the natural product or ingredients it originated as. Maybe I should've given you some of that Ale I had. At least that was real…"

"That could be it…" Draco said as he took Ianto's hand. He played with it for a while, ran his fingers along the skin. "Your hands are nice…"

"Are they?"

"Hm… They feel so… Strong…" Draco lifted the one he was holding up to his mouth. Gently he moved it along his lips, then on his cheek. "Ooh, yeah…"

"Your hands are very soft, almost feminine…" Ianto smiled. He turned a little on the bench, so that he made Draco move up, and they were eye to eye.

"Feminine?!" Draco looked indignant. "My hands are feminine?!"

"Well, soft and manicured and – jeez, Draco, it's not as if you have this macho image going on now, is it?" Ianto laughed, still looking him in the eye. "It's okay… I like it…"

Not taking his glance anywhere else, he moved forward a bit, making sure he was on the right track, and when no resistance came, he let his lips touch those of Draco, and within seconds he knew he was on to a winner. His younger friend responded eagerly, and he felt his head was touched gently, his face stroked by soft fingers, and he did the same to the young man in his arms. He felt a tongue wanting to feel his, his lips licked and soft moans sounded in the distance, although he knew they came from very nearby.

Many minutes were spent like this, both men enjoying the turn of the day, not entirely unexpected, but then again, this day had started out very differently. Being on a remote spot near the Irish Sea, with a full moon around and the beginnings of spring, Draco's mystery and nobody there to disapprove of their obvious attractions, there appeared to be some kind of lushness blossoming, and all three men gave in happily to their spontaneous desires.

"Let's go back to the house," Draco panted when his had finally managed to let go of Ianto's mouth.

"No, not yet… Mycroft might still be… We can…"

"I know… I just… I want to… I don't want to just kiss you…" Draco whispered between kisses. His hand moved from Ianto's face to his neck, and found a way into his shirt, undoing buttons with nimble fingers, slipping them inside, finding skin that was lovely and warm. Ianto's whimpers sent him spiralling into a yearning that he had no idea how to resist, and his hand moved on to undo the buttons of his trousers, and when he noticed that nobody tried to stop him, he carried on his explorations, and found that the man in his arms here was obviously very keen to be explored, shifting slightly to return the scrutinizing done to his body.

"Shit... Not here, Ianto…" Draco murmured, finding it impossible to hang on for any longer himself.

"Please…"

"Sure…?"

"God yes…"

"Oh Merlin…"

With that Draco slipped down onto the cold stone, unaware of the police car that had just pulled up a few yards behind them.

* * *

Back in the cottage, Mycroft had just finished the conference call between the private secretary to the Prime Minister and the ministry of Defence. He had been afraid he was going to be forced to go back to London, but had somehow managed to sort it out via a video link on his laptop. He was now feeling rather drained, and made himself a cup of tea. The wine from the restaurant had not fallen too well, and the strain of having to work something out with Justin, whom he normally got on well with, proved not a very good combination.

He looked at the clock that hung up on the wall in the kitchen and noticed that it was over an hour since he left Ianto and Draco behind in the restaurant. They were probably – hopefully - going to be home soon. He was excited by the notion, and thought back to the strange incident in the Indian restaurant, when Draco suddenly had the urge to kiss him, and what a kiss it was too. Just the memory of it made his blood rush, and it took rather a lot of his energy to squash the feelings of lust that rushed along with it. Luckily there were a few files that needed sorting out, and he put on some calming music to help him distract his mind from the inevitable excitement that thoughts of either of the guys would bring with them.

It then suddenly struck him how ludicrous it all really was… He was having a break from the craziness of his life, was landed with a beautiful yet mysterious young man and needed help from an agency that brought him another, and all he could think about was getting into bed with either – or both – as quickly as possible… What was he, an animal? His restraint that would normally keep his beastly instincts in check, that would make sure that he behaved like a civilised human being, one he would feel proud of, was on a break as well, was the impression… Back in London he would make sure that he was at all times a gentleman, decent and with an impeccable moral standard. So what happened here then?!

In London he had no love-life, no relationship to trouble his mind, just the odd fling to relief his aches and strains. His brother teased him with this, although he too was nowhere near a loving relationship, despite his rather obvious feelings for the new man in his life – godsend flatmate John Watson, with his patience that stretched to the stars, and his admiration for Sherlock that had him behave in an almost civilised way. And there were days that Mycroft felt insanely jealous of that. If only he could find someone to suit his needs…

As he was sitting at the table, thinking about his sorry life, he heard the sound of a car drive up to the house, and a few doors slam. He obviously wasn't expecting anybody, walked up to the window to see who it could be. Three men approached the door, and when he opened it, he saw a policeman, with Ianto and Draco.

"Hello sir, I believe these young men are in your care?" the constable said sternly.

"Oh hello," Mycroft looked at both guys incredulously, question marks visible from his eyes. "What has happened?"

"I found these two near the water, misbehaving, as it were…"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Um, how shall I put it… They were engaged in an act of indecent behaviour in public… And one of them can't produce a valid ID…"

"There was nobody else there! It was dark and…" Draco tried.

"Quiet, son." The constable spoke.

"Oh, I see," Mycroft looked at Ianto with some disappointment, and was greeted with a look of humiliation. "And what shall I do?"

"You can vouch for this chap here," pointing at Draco, who still looked livid. "He said he's left his ID in Scotland, and that you could give your word for his speaking the truth… I shall need to see your identification, obviously…"

"Of course." Mycroft turned to find his wallet, and returned with a card, which he gave to the man. Draco sat down on the sofa, and Ianto took a seat at the table. "Surely you can leave this as an act of youthful folly…"

"I won't press charges, and I won't even make a note of this, for now, but this young man here he should know better by now," the constable said, pointing towards Ianto. "As for the other young man, you need to look at your temper…" He had a look at the card Mycroft had produced, and had a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I believe that all is well here, and I shall bother you no longer…"

With that, he tipped his hat and left the cottage.

"What a bastard…" Draco grumbled when they had the cottage to themselves again. "There was literally nobody there! We were just…"

"Misbehaving…?" Mycroft smiled.

"Well, yes…"

"What were you doing there then?"

"Just fooling around…"

"Surely you wouldn't have been arrested for that?"

""You were about to give me a…" Ianto started, then saw the look on Mycroft's face and stopped. "Never mind…"

"What, a good seeing-to? I'm aware of the way you two…"

"Just us two? How about the way you look at us both? All innocent, is it?" Draco said sullenly. "This is all mad… Put three attractive, grown-up, sophisticated men in a house together, and depravity breaks out… How tragic are we…?"

Mycroft started laughing, and Ianto joined him.

"Very aptly put there, young Mr Malfoy…" Mycroft giggled, and turned to grab his mug of tea. "Anybody else want some? Tea, I mean…"

"Nah, I'm fine." Draco smiled.

"I don't suppose I can stay here tonight, can I?" Ianto asked. "It's just that it's a long drive back otherwise, and I'm sure we'll have quite a bit of stuff to figure out tomorrow, and it's a bit late to find a B&B now…"

"Yeah, fine. I'll see if there's a spare bed in this place."

"I'll take the sofa again, was quite nice last night…" Draco grinned, as he walked up to the fridge to get himself some fizzy water. These odd Muggle devices were starting to grow on him.

Mycroft went off to see if there was extra sleeping space upstairs, but found only quilts and pillows. He brought some down for Draco, and told Ianto about the lack of beds.

"That's okay, I can sleep in the car. Done that before, it's quite spacious, really…"

"Don't be silly! You'll freeze to death!" Draco uttered.

"I won't hear of it! You can…" Mycroft started, only to realise that his suggestion was rather absurd. He looked at both men, then sighed, and carried on, "In fact, you both can… The bed upstairs is enormous…"

Ianto and Draco looked at him confused.

"What, we all sleep in your bed?" Draco exclaimed.

"Yes, I know, depraved…" Mycroft replied.

"What, three sophisticated, attractive…" Ianto started.

"Civilised, educated..." Draco added.

"Debauched men such as we are…?!"

"It might work…"

"More tea, I feel…"

About an hour later they all went upstairs, one at the time, and got themselves ready for some rest. A slight unease with all three, as they pulled the duvet over their bodies, Ianto in the middle. They started off with spaces between them, politely keeping a distance. But as morning came, Ianto was tenderly embraced by Mycroft, and opened his eyes to see Draco deep in sleep, their hands clinched.


End file.
